


Candlelight

by mind_and_malady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Butt Plugs, Dom!Sam, Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sorry Not Sorry, Temperature Play, Wax Play, sub!Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4011931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mind_and_malady/pseuds/mind_and_malady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Lucifer have some time for themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Candlelight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andsowefell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andsowefell/gifts).



> Thanks to the conversation I had with andsowefell today about bottom!Lucifer, I finally finished this thing. 
> 
> Please do not consider this a guide on using hot wax or ice during sex. Seriously. This shit can be dangerous. Don't just arbitrarily fuck around with it.
> 
> I promise to work on prompts soon. The free time I've had recently, I've desperately needed to just relax and calm down. Summer break is soon, so that's two weeks of pure writing time before I jump into summer classes. If your prompt isn't complete by then, please feel free to come and ask me about it.

Sam’s room is illuminated by candles, the flames casting a variety of colors - here, the long red shadow of a crimson pillar candle, there, purple sweeping across the wall. The candlelight remakes Lucifer’s body in sharp shadows and pale yellow light, moving as he moves, shadows expanding and contracting as he gasps.

The longer Sam looks at him, the less certain he is of what it is he wants to do. Lucifer is utterly debauched, his legs parted wide around Sam, fingers curling into the white sheets, heels digging into the bed. He makes low, sweet noises when Sam’s casual touching is too much, and his mouth is red from biting it so much; his eyes are hidden behind a strip of violet silk. Sam had started out with a thin white base coat from the rainbow of candles available, but now he isn't sure what to make.

“What do you think, Lucifer?” he asks idly, rubbing his hands over Lucifer’s thighs. “Brushes, or straight from the candle?”

Lucifer lets out a little noise from the back of his throat, head tilting up and searching for Sam. Before he can say anything, Sam stretches up over him to press their mouths together in a molten kiss, smiling as Lucifer groans, hips shifting. He pulls back, and before Lucifer can even begin to formulate an answer to his question, Sam picks up a liquified dark blue candle and tilts the hot wax into the hollow of his throat.

Lucifer gasps sharply, all of his muscles tensing at the sudden pooling of wax. It doesn't splatter or drip, just wells up gently in the divot there until it overflows, drips trailing down his chest and drying, only to be overrun by more drips. Sam moves the candle, slowly letting it drip down Lucifer’s sternum, and the wax rolls down to pool in every cranny of skin.

The noises Lucifer makes are a sweet, wordless pleading. His trembling hands curl into the sheets as Sam shifts to put the candle back on the warmer, only to return bearing gold and a brush. When the brush drags shimmering lines of color across Lucifer’s ribs, catching and throwing the candlelight around the room, Lucifer lets out a broken noise at the soft heat and scratch of bristles.

“S-Sam,” he gasps, the word fractured. “Sam, please, please -”

Sam hushes him, laughing softly. “Shh. You know the rules. Wait for now. You can come as soon as I’m done.”

Frustration bleeds out of Lucifer’s every pore as Sam drags the brush over his skin, soft and warm. It’s infuriatingly slow compared to the mind-numbing bliss of wax being poured directly onto his skin, layer after layer of wax just this side of _too hot_. He’s hard and he wants to come and the wax makes it so hard, like lighting fire on his frigid skin. It’s too much yet not nearly enough, and dichotomy of that only rouses him further.

Sam takes his time, lets Lucifer’s frustration build, directionless and trapped. His hips shift occasionally, drawing Sam’s eye to the line of his cock, flushed red and bobbing against his stomach. Humming idly, Sam uses his thumb to push Lucifer’s cock further up to make room for a gold streak across his hips. He's rewarded with Lucifer jerking his hips up, actually shouting at the touch, shoulders knotting together as his back arcs upwards, placing small fractures in Sam’s art.

Laughing, Sam observes his creation. Lucifer’s chest is dark blue and dusted with shimmering gold. White peeks out around his thighs, skin under the wax flushed pink with heat. He’s beautiful, looks utterly fucked-out and he hasn’t even come yet, has barely even been _touched_.

“So beautiful,” Sam murmurs approvingly, reaching up to run a hand through Lucifer’s hair. Lucifer makes a soft noise of surprise, and blindly turns his head into Sam’s hand, earning a soft smile. “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” Lucifer breathes. “Yes, _Sam_ -”

“It’d be a shame if you never got to see how you look,” Sam says thoughtfully, and reaches over Lucifer to grab his phone from the bedside table. The click of the camera makes Lucifer moan, and he shudders, finds himself spreading further and pushing his hips up into the air high enough that it makes the plug inside him shift, and then he has to bear down against it, needy and desperate.

Sam pins his undulating hips to the bed, smirking and pulling out the plug to a chorus of _yes_ and _please_ and _Sam_ that all cuts off when he angles Lucifer's hips up enough that Sam can fuck into him while kneeling, practically bends Lucifer in half. But then he just stays there, perfectly still. Lucifer _writhes_ beneath him, begging incoherently for something, anything. Sam digs his fingers into Lucifer’s thighs, steadying himself, before reaching out and grabbing a candle, doesn’t really care which, and pours a slim line of hot wax down Lucifer’s cock.

He comes with a scream, lines of white streaking over Sam’s work, splattering all the way up his chest and neck from the angle, bits of come landing on his cheeks. Lucifer slumps bonelessly as Sam pulls out, still hard, and lets Lucifer’s hips drop once he puts the plug back in. The camera sound makes Lucifer moan softly, tongue flicking out to catch a trail of come on his cheek. Sam leans down and kisses him, chases the flavor of Lucifer into his mouth.

“Good boy,” Sam murmurs once he’s pulled away. Lucifer hums, pleased, only to gasp as Sam moves back and flips him over, the short fall briefly stunning him.

He knows what’s coming now, and Lucifer’s cock is already twitching by the time Sam presses a kiss to the back of his neck, mouth trailing down his spine. When teeth press into the edge of his shoulder blade, Lucifer groans, burying his head in the pillow, whole body curling inwards and then uncurling. His cock is too sensitive to be dragging against sheets even if that’s all he wants to do, cursing and blessing his lack of refractory periods. Sam grins against his shoulder, tongue dragging against the skin there, because he knows that he can make Lucifer come, just like this, as many times as he wants to, until he’s utterly spent and there’s nothing in him but orgasms that are shocky and painful, one after another. He knows extremely well, from extensive experience, how sensitive Lucifer's shoulders are. But that’s not what he’s after right now.

The first pouring of wax on his shoulders makes Lucifer groan, the world getting turned around in his head, hips dragging against the sheets even as his cock protests its sensitivity. The second pour, pooling in the divots of his spine and dripping down his ribs, has him grinding down into the bed and coming with weak spurts.

Wax drips down his ribs to join the mess of come under his hips, and Lucifer shudders. His nerve endings are a mess, every caress of Sam’s hand on his thighs like fire. Sam murmurs little nothings into the air, quiet praise and encouragement, and then he digs his fingers into Lucifer’s hair, pulling sharply as molten wax is poured over his ass. Lucifer comes again, groaning, humping into the bed that’s slick with his own mess, body wracked with tremors.

Then Sam slides the plug out and pushes in again, groaning thickly. Lucifer is nothing but lax muscles and over-sensitive nerve endings, and he matches Sam's groan note for note as he digs his fingers into Lucifer’s hips and fucks into him. Sam’s pace is brutal, the ache and stretch of it forcing Lucifer over the edge yet again, the mess growing further, and he knows that his whole front is probably covered in come, chest smeared with it on top of flaking wax. Sam mouths at Lucifer’s neck, teeth and tongue leaving violent blooms on his neck, hands braced against Lucifer’s shoulders and holding him down while he fucks him, fast and hard and nearly mindless. His thumbs dig into Lucifer’s shoulders, pressing hard against the bone, and Lucifer sobs as he comes one last time, muscles contracting around Sam, and it only takes a few more thrusts for Sam to come with a groan.

Lucifer whimpers as Sam pulls out, oversensitized and aching from the quick contraction and release of tension in his muscles, body trembling in the aftershocks. “Sam,” he mumbles, incoherent, voice utterly wrecked. “Sam, Sam -”

“Shh,” Sam soothes gently, combing carefully through Lucifer’s soft hair, even as he pushes the plug back in. “I'm here. Do you want to take a break, Luce?”

“No,” Lucifer’s head shakes sharply, frantic. “No, no, I - I want -”

His breathing is too erratic to speak properly. “Hey, hey,” Sam slides his palm to the back of Lucifer’s neck, bears down slightly to force Lucifer to slump. “It’s okay, it’s alright. What do you want, Luce?”

Lucifer takes a deep breath, forces the words out with only a little difficulty. "I want to keep going. Please," he adds, when he sees the hesitation on Sam's face. "I can - I can take more, you know I can -" he cuts off with a gasp when Sam sighs and pulls his head back by the roots of his hair.

"Just because you can doesn't mean you always should," Sam reminds him calmly, gentling his hold and letting Lucifer slump back down. "Sometimes you need a break. And I think you need one tonight."

A low whine breaks the air as Lucifer pushes his head further into the pillow. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "Sam, I’m -"

"Stop," Sam orders firmly, and Lucifer quiets. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, Luce. It's alright. Do you want to shower before we start again?"

Lucifer shakes his head. "Can I stay here?" he asks in a very small voice.

Sam nods, unseen. "Sure, Luce. I'll be right here, okay?"

Lucifer nods, relaxing. Sam will stay right where he is, kneeling between his legs, turning his neck purple-green with bruises, slowly peeling off the wax in one long piece. He can be calm, so long as Sam's there, can still float blissful and warm on the after effects of his rapid-fire orgasms. He makes a confused noise when Sam removes the blindfold, blinking in the candlelight as Sam’s face materializes in the dim light.

Sam just smiles and turns him onto his back, clicking his tongue at the mess Lucifer has made of his front. Lucifer swallows as he watches Sam peel off the wax, shuddering when he lays warm kisses up his chest. A nearby towel is used to clean up any stray messes, and then Sam coaxes Lucifer up off the bed so he can throw the messy top sheet to the side and replace it with a few warm, soft towels.

He settles himself back on the bed and draws Lucifer between his legs, his back pressed to Sam’s chest, face turned to bury his nose against Sam’s shoulder. Sam drops more kisses down Lucifer’s neck, nuzzling into his hair, hands running over Lucifer’s skin, just a few degrees colder now than Sam’s own blistering heat. For a long while, they just stay there. Sam touches Lucifer easily, the comforting trail of his hands and the lips on his neck keeping Lucifer locked in his high. 

“How do you feel, Luce?” Sam asks, voice low and slightly muffled by skin.

“I - I’m good.” Better than good, really. Floating on that cloud of bliss Sam takes him to, he’s way, way better than just good.

“Safeword?”

"Venus," Lucifer sighs, tips his head the other way to press a stubbly kiss to Sam's neck.

Sam smiles, tips his head down to nose at the line of Lucifer's jaw, lips moving to his ear. “Good. I want you to lay on your stomach now, head towards the end of the bed. The blindfold is your choice. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Sam slides off the bed and out into the dark hallway. Lucifer takes a deep breath and then does as he was instructed, tying the blindfold behind his head before laying down. He’s still hot from the wax, almost sickeningly so, but the bed is comfortable, and the towels are soft, and the whole room smells like sex and Sam and the vanilla scented candles he keeps burning for light only. He offers the room a gentle sigh, and he gives himself up to waiting.

It’s only a few minutes before Sam comes back, setting something on the table with the dull thud of hollow plastic. He runs a firm hand down Lucifer’s pink-tinged back, and Lucifer shudders, rolls up into the motion. Sam does it once more, then runs loose fingers through Lucifer’s hair, checking the knot on the blindfold, earning a contented sigh before pulling his hands away. There’s the sound of a lid coming loose, and then Sam murmurs, “Open your mouth.”

Lucifer turns his head sideways to offer Sam his open mouth, twitching and cringing a little when Sam places an ice cube on his tongue. “Don’t chew it,” Sam instructs. “Let it melt and swallow the water.”

Lucifer whines plaintively around the ice cube, but Sam only laughs, low and rough. He keeps whining anyway, but lets it melt and swallows like he was instructed to. Sam puts another ice cube in his numb mouth, and Lucifer whimpers, only to shout when ice suddenly comes into contact with his spinal column. The cube falls from his mouth.

Sam clicks his tongue disapprovingly, picking up the ice and putting it back in Lucifer’s mouth before returning the new ice cube to the top of Lucifer’s spine. He slides it downwards, slowly, leaving behind a puddle of melted water that quickly wicks away into the air. Lucifer shudders as he drags it back up, swallowing the ice cube in his mouth and whimpering from the cold.

Once the ice cube has melted, Sam takes two more and places them on his shoulders and just. Leaves them there.

“Sam,” Lucifer breathes, crying out when Sam presses a hot kiss to the top of his spine.

“You’re doing so well, Luce,” he murmurs. “Just stay still. I know it’s cold, but you can do it, Luce. Just be patient and stay still.” Another ice cube where his lips had warmed Lucifer’s skin, a fourth at the base of his spine. Sam presses his frigid, damp hands to the inside of Lucifer’s thighs and draws a shudder from him.

By the time the ice cubes have melted, Lucifer feels as cold as he normally does, but Sam puts on more, in the same places. And then again. And again. By the end of the fourth time, Lucifer can’t stop his shaking, jaw clenched to keep his teeth from chattering. He’s freezing, frozen, body stiff and aching.

“S-Sam,” he starts, and then Sam’s hands press down over his shoulder blades and he groans.

Sam’s hands are hot and firm, the perfect countermeasure for his frozen muscles. Lucifer _melts_ , falls utterly limp as those hands kneed his muscles back to life, eventually pressing his whole back to Lucifer’s, spreading Lucifer’s arms out wide to overlap them with his own. His legs frame Lucifer’s thighs, his cock hot and heavy against Lucifer’s ass. Lucifer wants to press up into him but he’s suddenly too blissed out to care, melting from the outside in, Sam’s heat invading him.

He gasps a little when Sam starts grinding down onto him, hands hot on his thighs, chest dewing with sweat where he’s pressed against Lucifer’s back. He moves, shifts back just enough take out the plug and push inside Lucifer once more. Lucifer shudders and moans, heat stabbing him from the inside now, and he can’t hold on for very long, he knows that.

“Can I come?” Lucifer pleads, gasping. “Please, Sam -”

Sam pulls his hips up, Lucifer’s back forming a slope now from where Sam’s kneeling, fucking him. One hand twists into his hair and the other wraps around Lucifer’s cock, keeps pace with the deep thrusts Sam is giving him. His neck tilts almost painfully as Sam yanks hard on the blond locks, forcing Lucifer to cry out and shudder, eyes rolling back a little.

“Sam, Sam, _please_ -”

“Come,” Sam growls, twisting his wrist around Lucifer’s cock as he pulls on his hair hard enough to drive a howl from Lucifer’s mouth, come splattering against his stomach and the towel. Sam keeps fucking him, fast and shallow now, until his cock jerks and he pulls out, spilling across Lucifer’s back in a few short bursts of hot come.

Lucifer slumps as soon as Sam releases him, collapsing into a sticky mess. The blindfold comes off after a moment, Sam laying little kisses along his neck and shoulders, murmuring praise that drifts through Lucifer’s ears as pleasant, tuneless noise. His eyes stay shut, utterly exhausted. Sam eventually spreads his cheeks again, thumb rubbing over Lucifer’s stretched hole, and inserts a different plug, short and thin and slick. Lucifer sighs a little at the sensation; it’s barely noticeable after getting fucked twice already, just a pleasant fullness that Sam knows he loves. He hums a little as Sam wipes a damp cloth over his skin, cleaning sweat and come off of him. Eventually, Sam lifts him gently from the bed to remove the towels, placing him down again to clean his chest. Lucifer blinks blearily up at him, smiling tiredly when Sam leans in to press soft kisses to his cheeks, leaves their foreheads resting together for a moment.

He’s dozing off by the time Sam moves away to find a blanket and extinguish the candles, and doesn’t rouse until Sam has gotten settled in and covered them both with the blanket. Even then, he isn’t truly awake, just aware enough to know he wants Sam closer, curling into his chest, sighing when Sam’s arm extends to pull him even closer. He hums when Sam presses a kiss to the top of his head and tucks him beneath his chin.

Lucifer is safe here. Loved, even. He revels in it, in the beat of Sam’s heart as they drift into sleep, in the warmth of Sam’s body curled around his own. He sleeps, secure in the knowledge that he can let go for a little while, that it’s okay for him to be at ease and relaxed, to trust that he is safe here and that Sam loves him.

_Sam loves me._

Lucifer sleeps, and he doesn’t dream.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure how to end this so I spewed out a paragraph of feelings. Sorry not sorry :D


End file.
